


Personal and Confidential

by cowgirldressage1



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, M/M, Star Trek: TOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:52:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirldressage1/pseuds/cowgirldressage1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock's log entries just prior to Amok Time.  Keep in mind, this involves his rather fevered fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal and Confidential

Personal Log, Spock - Stardate: 3371

I have assigned Ensign Cheve to Astrometrics as of today. It seems in line with both her interests and skills. The shore leave schedule is complete and I have forwarded it to Captain Kirk. I am monitoring the experiment in BioLab 2 closely, as it appears to be near completion.

I have been experiencing inefficency in my concentration of late. Doctor McCoy has reminded me of my scheduled physical in two point three days. Although I would prefer to have no symptoms by that time, I would be gratified to determine the source of my concerns.

Personal Log, Spock - Stardate: 3371.9

I am concerned that the Captain has not acknowledged my proposed shore leave schedule for the crew. It is unlike him to ignore such an important issue and speaks of his preoccupation in other areas. I had believed transferring Ensign Cheve from the Bridge to the Astrometrics Lab would help him focus on his responsibilities but as he is human, he seems to be consistently distracted.

Doctor McCoy has reminded me for the fifth time I am scheduled for a physical. Perhaps it is illogical, but I find his constant reminders an irritant.

Personal and Confidential Log, Spock - Stardate: 3372

Despite repeated requests, Captain Kirk remains unresponsive to my queries concerning the shore leave roster. I am reluctant to attribute it to Ensign Cheve’s absence from the Bridge, but can come to no other conclusion. I find myself irritated by this. However, the Ensign has been working efficiently in the Astometrics Lab, aided by Lieutenant Moab. They appear to have an efficient working relationship.

On a personal note, I find myself dreaming vividly. I cannot recall the specifics but they touch me emotionally. I have been meditating daily but have been unable to achieve the fourth level. 

Personal and Confidential, Log, Spock - Stardate: 3372.5

It is quite illogical, but I am experiencing tension, physically and mentally. Doctor McCoy has suggested I am irritable. I do not discount this. I should release this energy and be. However, everything seems to be flavored by emotion. I try to ignore this as best I can, but it is increasingly difficult.

Seemingly typical daily occurrences are obsessively fascinating. I observed Ensign Cheve in the Astrometrics Lab two point four hours ago. She completed her assignment and spoke to Lieutenant Moab briefly. I noticed she ran her hand across Moab’s palm in passing. I surmise this is a caress. The pheromones from both women made it impossible to concentrate. I would speak to them about professionalism but could not logically find fault with their behavior. Still, the memory of it is unforgettable and highly compelling.

I have spoken to Captain Kirk about the delay in completing the shore leave schedule. He explained that we are waiting for additional orders from Star Fleet. There is a possibility that shore leave may be postponed by several days. I do not understand why he could not have advised me earlier. His behavior is illogical and shows a lack of respect for my responsibilities.

I experienced a flush of anger when I spoke to him. I am beginning to suspect the cause of my tension. It is imperative that I not seek Doctor McCoy’s aid. No one must know.

Personal and Confidential, Log Spock - Stardate: 3372.9

I just woke from a dream, sexually aroused. I note this only because it is rare. I am able to recall my dream in detail and the content was quite shocking. 

Ensign Cheve and Lieutenant Moab were engaged in sexual congress. I stood at the foot of their bed, watching them, their naked bodies moving together and their rich scent soaking the air. Although I knew I would be welcome to join them, it was eminently satisfying to observe them in their passionate embrace. 

The pressure in my groin woke me abruptly. I stroked myself, unable to stop. I came, furious at my weakness. My desire remains muted but is ever present, a tense hum under my skin. 

I would lie to myself, about what this means, but it would be to no avail. 

Personal and Confidential, Log, Spock - Stardate: 3373

This afternoon, I joined Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy for lunch in the Mess. I forced myself to eat, as I knew the Doctor would note my lack of appetite. The Captain appeared to be in a jovial mood, joking and laughing with crewmembers that stopped at our table. As I was trying to illicit additional information regarding our next mission, I found these constant interruptions difficult to bear. 

A smiling Ensign Cheve stopped by our table briefly, with a nonsensical report about her new posting. Jim grinned and engaged her in conversation. Even Doctor McCoy noticed the flirting between them and rolled his eyes. I wish I had transferred her to Space Dock and off the ship.

Still, lunch gave me an opportunity to observe Jim in a casual atmosphere. He has ever been coiled strength and expansive warmth. I am fascinated with how his hands gesture when he speaks and the way the rich timber of his voice changes in conversation. It is difficult to catch his scent when others are present but his quarters are heavy with his masculine odor

I have known for a long time that I find him sexually attractive. This path is too dangerous to follow. I must remember who will soothe me and not allow fantasy to distract me from my goal. My goal. It crushes me with responsibility to my clan, to my world and renders my duty to this ship, to my Captain, and even to my own desires, moot.

Personal and Confidential, Log, Spock -Stardate: 3373.6

Having returned to my cabin, I attempt to mediate. Instead, I am pulled into a sexual fantasy, the cause of which is well known to me. I am still, yet flames lick my body, teasingly, relentlessly, until the fantasy becomes a waking dream that I am fully immersed in.

Again, I stand at the foot of Ensign Cheve’s bed, watching as she and her lover, Lieutenant Moad engage each other. This time, Jim is between them, twining legs and arms around their pale bodies. They touch him intimately with hands and mouths. I watch Jim respond to them, his desire setting off a firestorm within me. 

I shift uneasily as watch Jim rock, Moad’s mouth warm around him. Cheve opens to him like a flower and he sinks within her, each thrust, a heartbeat. Moad touches his flanks and he shifts beneath her, offering himself. 

She touches herself as she handles him roughly, as a man would, as I would, was I allowed. He wants more. His anus twitches, as though waiting for my fingers, my engorged cock. She pleasures him, touching and stroking him deeply, her fingers wet and shiny and I cry out. I want to take him now but it is just a dream.

The smell of sex, their cries, the slap of skin against damp flesh rise like a fever. I awoke at the moment of their completion, my seed scattered upon my belly, humiliated by my need.

I must leave this ship, before the line between fantasy and reality disappears. I will not harm them. I must return home. Sated, I can barely access the muted bond between my betrothed and I. I feel it pulse. I feel her disgust. 

 

Personal and Confidential, Log Spock - Stardate: 3373.10

Nurse Chapel brings me sustenance as I can no longer bring myself to eat, to be around these fragile humans. Only the Bridge is safe, where I am locked into duty and endless repetition of my design. 

She is unaware. To bring me food, it is an offering beyond a physical need she understands. I look at her moving about my cabin, her crisp blue uniform barely covering her thighs and imagine what it would be like to bury myself inside her. She is willing, I know. I do not truly want her but my body would respond to anything at this point. 

The fever climbs, the flames consuming me. Before I break and force myself upon her, I throw her and her offering out of my cabin, out of my regard. I feel her anger and hurt clearly but I have done her a favor. She is not mine.

There is one, T’Pring. Her cool lines and glacial expression are enough to sooth me. Part of me acknowledges that she does not excite my passion, that is reserved for another. But she can quiet me, my mind, and body. 

I fall to my knees, focusing on her, on our bond. Desire consumes me and I pull off clothes that restrict me, touching myself. Each stroke is ecstasy, each stroke is agony. I cannot reach that point where relief waits, no matter how I try. Finally, I picture Jim, his warm hands on me, and his mouth open on my neck. It is enough. I reach my crisis with ease under his gaze.

My passion must be quenched by her cool touch. I cannot have him, but in my imagination, he will be there.

Personal and Confidential, Log Spock -Stardate: 3373.18

McCoy knows. I cannot hide what is. He records my hormone levels, my very desires. I quicken to his touch, I am so debauched. I want nothing more than to hide.

He pretends he does not see. He ignores my ignoble response to his cold hands. I scream in my mind for release and hurry back to the quiet of my cabin.

I lay on my bed, creating a world in my mind where Jim comes to me, offering himself, his anus smug and tight, waiting for me, waiting for completion. I take my pleasure in him, without pause. It seems endless, the desire spinning between us. I cannot stop. 

Jim confronts me then, entering my cabin, asking questions. I can barely answer him, my hands shaking, and my voice hoarse. I have just enough control to hide my desire, but no energy left for prevarication. The truth, my truth, my weakness, is laid bare.

In typical Jim Kirk fashion, he accepts my condition, he accepts me. He puts his career on the line to take me home. After he leaves, I acknowledge my love. It bursts within me, shaking me to my core. Love tangles with grief. I scream my rage that I will never have what I want, what I need. 

 

Personal and Confidential, Log Spock - Stardate: 3374

Finally, we are in orbit around Vulcan. Jim and McCoy have offered to accompany me for the Bonding ceremony. It will be our last time together, the three of us. Once bonded, I do not know what will become of the ties between us. I regret losing any part of what we have become. My Vulcan biology has made a wide swath of destruction.

When T’Pring appeared on the view screen, cold and severe, I sensed surprise from my crewmates. Jim withdraws, hiding behind good humor and gentle support. I spare only a few seconds on his response, a final stab of regret.

Finally, the bond between T’Pring and I snaps into place and heats. I can want only her. She is all I see, all I conceive of. I will bury myself in her soft heat and forget Jim.

 

Personal and Confidential, Log Spock - Stardate: 3374.10

What I have done is unimaginable. I have killed Jim, murdered him with my bare hands, on the lands of my ancestors to fulfill an ancient drive and customs, which are far from the peace of Surak. The matriarch of my family, T’Pau, as well as Doctor McCoy, was witness to my crime. There is no punishment great enough for what I have done.

When we arrived on Vulcan, I could feel the fever take hold. Still, I had the rudiments of control until T’Pring invoked the challenge. I had believed I understood the ancient drives until the Plak Tow took me in its teeth and scattered my sanity to the wind. 

She had chosen another as her mate, and with well-reasoned and dishonorable logic, chose Jim, my Captain, to be her chosen in combat. I barely comprehended my course. He understood none of what was to happen.

We fought to the death, using the ahwoon and lirpa. I understood, finally, what the pre-reform Vulcans sought when they purged their emotions. Would that I could have done the same. Jim fought bravely, pulling punches, trying to protect me, his friend, even when he realized my sole intent was to kill him.

To murder him.

There was a point, when I fought him, when his body moved beneath mine in a parody of passion, that I knew it was him. At that moment, my body released. In that instant, clarity returned but it was too late, he already hung lifeless in my hands.

I realize hate is not logical but I hate her. It is childish; the responsibility is ultimately mine and mine alone. But, I have relegated her to chattel status. Stonn may do with her what he wishes. I cannot wish them a long a prosperous life, as she has taken that from me and from Jim.

My last task is to speak to Doctor McCoy and Mr. Scott. I will consign myself to the brig, if necessary, for the crime I have committed. It is ironic, I care very little for my future, but I rage even now that the fever has passed, for the loss of Captain Kirk. That bright star should have continued to burn, undimmed for many years. To lose his light and life at the hands of one he trusted so well, it is a blight on this Universe.

Personal and Confidential, Log Spock - Stardate: 3377.4

Many days have passed since my last log entry. I look back on it and cannot forget the agony Jim’s death caused me. Of course, Jim is alive. Doctor McCoy, that clever human, perpetuated a ruse that saved my life, and thankfully, Jim’s.

When I was confronted with Jim, alive and whole in Sick Bay, I believe it became quite clear to him. My unabashed joy at seeing him was irrefutable proof of my regard. He told me, not long after, that he’d hoped to see that expression on my face, just not after his recent death. He chuckled when he told me this and took my hands. I could feel his love and affection so very clearly.

It has taken some time, but we have become lovers. Not lovers in the mindless sense of the pon farr, but with respect, kindness, love, and yes, passion. A bond has been created between us that transcends friendship and desire. I would that we had come to this without the pain of Jim’s near death, but, as my grandmother is wont to say, Kaiidth.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review. This is my first attempt at 1st person


End file.
